The Phoenix Lament
by akimmy
Summary: Set right after the defeat of Voldemort, Harry learns to deal with the guilt and the fame of the war.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is my very first fanfiction, so I'm sorry if this doesn't live up to expectations, no matter how low.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter, even though I desperately wish I do.

**Chapter 1.**

_Avada Kadavra!_

A blinding flash of jet green light filled Harry's mind before he awoke with a sudden jolt. Just like a routine, he leaned against his sweat-drenched pillow, blinked the weariness out of his eyes, and tried to calm his shallow erratic breathing. It then took him a minute to realize that he was at the Burrow.

He slowly got up, careful not to disturb the sleeping ginger in the bed across the room, and walked out. But as he was making his way across the kitchen, his eyes caught the Weasley's unique clock. Harry tried to tear his eyes away from the heart-wrenching sight and he succeeded in doing so, but not before he saw the name of one Weasley.

Fred Weasley.

The teenage boy with wild dark hair standing in the middle of the room felt a feeling in his gut similar to being kicked, as he remembered what that specific hand was pointing to.

Lost.

His stomach was caught in his throat and his heart felt as if it was made of lead. A burning feeling trickled in the back of his eyes with a promise of fresh tears waiting to spill out. But even though he wanted nothing more than to break down and cry until he could feel nothing again, he bit down on the inside of his cheeks to stop the tears and kept walking outside onto the vast front lawn of the Burrow.

As he looked out onto the silvery field, he felt chilled despite the warm summer weather. He could distinctly remember how in this very same place, he had turned into "Barney Weasley" for Bill and Fleur's wedding, how Ron and Hermione danced, how Great-Aunt Muriel described Dumbledore's past, and how Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Delacour had cried tears of happiness for their children.

Though he very rarely saw Mrs. Weasley with bright red puffy eyes and a handkerchief on her person before, it now became a regular thing at the Burrow but the reason for it now was sadness. And Harry rued that with all his heart.

It's all my fault, he thought bitterly as looked up onto the silver half-moon. If I had just died when I was a baby, I could've prevented this. I could have stopped all these families getting torn up. I could've stopped another Teddy Lupin happening.

Even as he thought this however, he knew that he was wrong. If he had died when he was a baby, Voldemort would've still been at large and done worse damage than he'd done now. Without the love of Lily Potter protecting Harry and helping him survive, he knew that the world would constantly be living off of fear, worry, and darkness. But even though he tried to reason with himself, he still couldn't stop feeling as much a murderer as Voldemort. He couldn't shake off the feeling of the blood on his hands, the lives that were taken in order to protect him. He disgusted himself.

He closed his eyes, and like a movie playing on the screen, he could see the wall blasting out, and hear the hoarse shouts as Fred Weasley breathed his very last laugh. Then the scene changed into the Great Hall, where the Weasley family had gathered around the limp lifeless body. He remembered George, kneeling there, next to his brother, his other half who stared back at him with unseeing eyes.

George. In sudden clarity, Harry remembered how George's usually bright brown eyes wore no expression. It became blank as if the reality hasn't set in for him yet. There were no mischievous glint in both of the twins' eyes that everyone was so used to seeing, no color, no feeling, just blank.

Sickened with himself, Harry Potter turned around to slowly drag himself into the house. While he was about to go up the stairs, a muffled sob coming from the living room caught his attention. He unconsciously drifted toward the source of the crying to find Molly Weasley sitting on an old couch with an open family album in her lap.

Harry couldn't bear the sight of his mother figure in such state of heartbreak. As he was about to turn to go to his room, however, Molly's sobs got more intense to the point where he found himself moving closer to the red-haired woman.

"Oh, Ha-Harry," She sniffed, "Wh-What are you doing u-up?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley. I just needed fresh air," Harry muttered.

When Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to say something, Harry quickly whispered, "I'm sorry."

It took a couple seconds for the woman to catch what he had said and then looked up to look at the boy standing in front of her and gave him a puzzled expression.

"It was my fault that Fred died. If I hadn't-"

"No, no, no. F-Fred knew what he w-was getting into when h-he went into the w-war, Harry. It isn't y-your fault and you m-mustn't blame yourself, d-dear. He... d-died... protecting you and his f-family. I'm s-sure he wouldn't h-have gone any o-other way." Mrs. Weasley then broke into tears by the last sentence and dabbed her wet eyes with a semi-dry handkerchief.

"But-" Harry started.

"No, I'm n-not going to h-hear this from y-you. Now off t-to bed, sweetie."

With a sad expression, he then quickly hugged his best friend's mom and muttered, "Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley." and crept up the stairs.

He laid in bed, knowing he wouldn't get any sleep. He hadn't been able to sleep well ever since the war. Even with Voldemort gone, the new nightmares haunted him every time Harry attempted to close his eyes. Every bad thing that had happened in Harry's life was played back in high-definition. Sometimes he could actually see his mother's beautiful face contorted in sadness as the emerald green stream of magic hit her squarely in her back. Every time he awoke from anything close to sleeping, he woke up feeling more tired and guilty than he had when he had fallen asleep. So wide awake, he thought about tomorrow. Tomorrow being the memorial for those who have fallen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I got all the **dates and names off of Wikipedia, so if any of them are wrong, sorry! D:**

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter does not belong to me.

**Chapter 2.**

It was a bright sunny day in London, quite contrary to the mood. The atmosphere was so thick and laced with grief that even the muggles couldn't enjoy the beautiful rare weather. Countless wizards from across the globe have begun to gather in the newly fixed Ministry of Magic. Security was high and countless charms were set to prevent unwanted guests from coming in. The tension became harder to handle with every cry. Harry walked into the middle of the hall where he had somewhat Crucio-ed Bellatrix Lestrange during fifth year, flanked by Ron and Hermione on his left and Ginny on his right. When he stepped into the underground building, Aurors were continually checking in on Harry to make sure he was safe and was who he said he was. It was hard for him to get a time to himself because almost everyone who had attended had came up to thank and congratulate him for saving the wizarding world.

Harry became robotic after the first couple dozen wizards and witches coming up to him. He merely smiled a smile that didn't quite touch his eyes and shook hands of those who had come up without letting go of the beautiful auburn haired girl to his right. Even when people hugged him, he still hung onto Ginny's hand which she held back reassuringly.

While he was being hugged by a teary witch in her middle 30's thanking him, he noticed a couple of his school classmates walking in to find a seat either with their families or, like many who attended, alone.

Neville was spotted by Hermione through the crowd, with an old woman on his arm who Harry recognized as Neville's grandmother. Neville still had some fading bruises and scratches across his face and his grandmother was sporting the same outfit that Harry had witnessed Neville's boggart wearing during third year. Neville's grandmother looked fragile but everyone knew that she was anything but, and she looked quite proud to have Neville on her arm. Neville looked over their way and gave them a slight wave to which Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny answered with a warm smile.

"What is that **git** doing here?"

Harry turned around quickly to see Ron having his brown eyes glaring at a wizard who had just walked in.

Malfoy.

He was the last person whom Harry wanted to see. Although he didn't support the same intense hate towards the boy as he had in school, he still couldn't feel a little bit wary at the sight of his platinum blonde hair and aristocratic aura. However, as he watched his school nemesis sit in the back row, he couldn't help but notice how much older he looked for a seventeen-year old boy. Even though he saw him in the Great Hall after the Battle of Hogwarts around a month ago, it felt as if he came back an entirely different person.

"Ron... Lower your voice," said Hermione trying to calm him down.

"He's a DEATH EATER, Hermione! He has the Dark Mark! Harry saw it with his own two eyes! He's also a bloody coward, that bastard," Ron spat venomously.

"Ronald, let it go! Let's just find a seat," With some effort, she dragged her seething boyfriend to find a seat while Harry and Ginny were left to talk to the rest of the thankful crowd.

Finally, when the crowd around Harry had thinned out some, Harry and Ginny went to go find Ron and Hermione and took a seat beside them in time to see a tall lanky wizard with the name Nathaniel Restat step onto the platform. Suddenly, the crowd quickly found a seat and fell completely silent except for the occasional sniffling. Mr. Restat seemed to be in his late 40's, his brown hair receding to the back of his head, and his Scottish accent was accented by the booming microphone.

"Welcome. We are here today to remember everyone who had given their lives to protect us here today," Harry had noticed many of the foreign wizards setting up a translating charm to understand the wizard speaking to them. "In a span of around 2 and a half decades, two wars have taken place. Twice, the world was consumed by darkness and evil. Twice, people had loyally sacrificed so a world can see another brighter future. Finally, the world is rid of the evil and hate and all is peaceful. Today, we are here to recognize and thank those people who have lost a tremendous amount due to the harsh conditions of the war..."

The wizard started onto the names of the people who have died in the first war, first. Harry wanted to apparate back to the Burrow. He didn't want to hear the names that he knew were inevitably going to be announced.

After a while, Harry heard Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom's names coming from the wizard. Even though they hadn't died, they still have given up too much to protect the Order. They were still in St. Mungo's living a life, that some people considered, worse than death.

Harry quickly glanced in the general direction in which Neville had sat down and he could see his fellow Gryffindor with his head held high, beaming. Harry knew that Neville was proud to be their son, and he was sure that they were proud to call him their son.

"Gideon and Fabian Prewett... James and Lily Potter..."

Harry kept his eyes fixed to the floor. He could feel numerous pairs of eyes glancing in his direction. There were murmured whispers, and Ron had put his arm around his best friend's shoulders in reassurance. The familiar burning feeling in the back of his eyes were back again. He held Ginny's hand tighter, almost painfully, but Ginny didn't complain nor take her hand away. She just looked straight ahead as Mr. Restat went on listing more names.

Every so often, a heartbreaking sob broke out from the crowd as the list went on.

Too soon, Mr. Nathaniel Restat went onto the list of the second war. Harry desperately wanted to leave and he knew that his friends did too. They couldn't bear to hear about their once classmate's names being called out. Especially when less than a year ago, they were all dreading going to potions, or going to watch the Quidditch match, or serving detention together.

Suddenly, Ginny held Harry's hand tightly and she stiffened beside him. He then realized that their friends' names had been called out.

"Cedric Diggory," a sudden sob broke out a couple of rows behind Harry where Amos Diggory sat. For a minute, Harry could taste the thick air of the Twi-Wizarding Tournament, feel the cold body of Cedric beneath his hands, and hear, then and now, the hurt in Amos's cries.

"Broderick Bode... Sirius Black..."

Small gasps broke out from all over the crowd. Sirius was proven innocent by the Ministry and the rest of the wizarding community after his death and the fact that he couldn't experience freedom in his last years made Harry grab Ginny's hand so hard in anger that she gave a small quiet yelp. Thankfully, she didn't pull her bruising hand away.

As the Mr. Restat moved on to the next name, his anger dissipated into regret, sadness, and again, a gut-wrenching guilt. He knew that if he had tried harder at Occlumency, he would have been able to stop Sirius' death. Sirius Orion Black, the only family he had left, was gone all because of him.

"Albus Dumbledore..." Harry lifted his eyes from the floor to find the surrounding wizards sneaking glances at him. He saw Aberforth to his right and he gave him a slight nod of the head to acknowledge him. After the war, Harry had visited Aberforth to find that he had forgiven Albus for their family and childhood.

"Ted Tonks..." Andromeda cried silently into a bright purple-haired Teddy's neck. Oblivious to what was going on, Teddy giggled as his grandmother's tears tickled him.

The list went on for a while with a few familiar names here and there. Then, Nathaniel Restat listed off the names that Harry really didn't want to hear, didn't want to accept that they were gone. "Fred Weasley... Severus Snape... Remus Lupin... Nymphadora Tonks... Alastor Moody"

Molly Weasley cried out as if in pain and wailed into her husband's shoulder. Harry took Ron's right hand with his left, and squeezed firmly. He could see a tear rolling down his best friend's left cheek until it finally splashed onto his robes. He could also hear Hermione's muffled sobs.

To his right he saw Ginny sobbing into her free hand. He gently leaned into her and she turned and cried into his shoulder leaving wet spots on his new dress robes. He didn't care though, he felt nauseous and the burning in his eyes had gotten worse along with a slight prickling joining in.

He closed his eyes and saw Mad-Eye's fake blue eye watching him. After things have settled down a little bit after the war, he had snuck out to apparate to the tree where he had buried Moody's eye. His body was never found, but he hadn't told anyone about the eye except Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Harry had felt that Moody would've liked some peace and quiet after years of violence.

Harry also remembered how he came to plead with the Ministry. They had refused to have Remus and Severus' names on the list, but Harry had testified against them to add them. He had proved before the entire Wizengamot under veritaserum and Pensieve that Severus Tobias Snape was indeed working for Dumbledore and he was a hero who played a major role in the outcome of the war. He also had begged to have Remus John Lupin on the list as well. Even though many of the people who attended had a severe discrimination of werewolves, they still couldn't deny that Remus was a hero, not a monster.

Thinking of Remus, he stole a peek at his now blonde godson. Just watching him glance around with a naive smile on his face was enough to push a tear out of his eyes. As Teddy turned his dad's shining brown eyes onto Harry, Harry felt a heavy sense of responsibility towards the small baby and swore that he would do whatever it takes to make Teddy have a loving childhood, quite opposite of what he had personally experienced.


End file.
